


Waifs & Strays

by snowydragon



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowydragon/pseuds/snowydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story picks up after 5 X 9. Shaw is on the road to recovery and the team still has to defeat Samaritan.  In the middle of all this Root and Shaw try to figure out whatever their thing is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slumber

_People who are meant to be together will always find their way back. They make take a few detours, but they’re never lost._ ~ Unknown

The backs of her eyelids were awash with images too many for anything to be distinctive. Sameen gasped and then awoke. She was disoriented, sweaty, and cold all at the same time. It took her a few seconds to remember that she was in the subway and not with Samaritan. How could the subway be so cold? Sameen wondered. It was underground and surrounded by water pipes and electricity humming in the huge city. Sameen had somehow managed to get some sleep though she is not sure if someone gave her something.

She moved her legs and hit something – Bear. He grumped, but did not move.

It was dark in the subway’s alcove. Sameen rubbed her eyes trying to avoid touching the spot behind her ear, so she kept rubbing just in front of her ear. She felt the sheen of sweat that covered her even there. It somehow made everything feel more real.

Her eyes drifted around the darken area, it dimly lit by emergency lighting near the subway car.

Finally her eyes fell on Root. She was sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. Her head was titled to the side resting against the wall, she was asleep, though her hand seemed to have a death grip on the gun she was holding.

Sameen did, finally, check behind her ear and she felt nothing, but the stitches from when the implant was removed. Then she found herself rubbing her arms she was cold, dammit. Her eyes wandered back to Root. She kept looking and a softness slowly crept into Sameen’s eyes. She leaned forward, grabbed Root’s ankle, and shook her leg. Root’s eyes jumped open and she immediately checked their surroundings. Then her eyes came back around to Sameen.

“It’s cold,” Sameen commented.

Root just blinked at her. Bear was looking back and forth between them.

Sameen held Root’s gaze and then slowly pulled the blankets back, “come on nerd.”

Root did not move immediately, but then she slowly got herself off the ground. She looked around again, stretched, and placed her weapon on the night stand. She took her jacket off and pushed her shoes off. Root went to lie down, but stopped when Sameen merely raised an eyebrow.

Root looked down and finally took her jeans off as well. She then bent over to pet Bear, who moved over when Sameen did.

Root crawled in next to Sameen, after placing the gun under the pillow. Bear then draped himself across the bottom of the bed, his head resting on Root’s lower legs.

At first they merely laid near one another, until Sameen pulled Root’s arm around her as she rolled onto her side facing the wall. All three of them sighed as they fell into sleep.

From the subway car The Machine’s steady light could been seen, watching over them all.

 

Root hummed a little while she waited for her order. The entire world seems to be slumbering. Samaritan is quiet. The Machine is not giving out as many numbers. The team sticks to their identities.  Root is not sent to other cities or countries. It is the calm before the storm. They are in the eye of it. Root wonders if The Machine is giving her more downtime due to Sameen’s return. If so, she is grateful. She hasn’t gotten the gumption up to ask Her yet. It’s been a week. The first few nights were very rough. Sameen would have nightmares every night, waking in cold sweats. She was also grumpy, well, grumpier than usual when she was awake. Root has sat on the ready with her gun for each of those nights. Maybe tonight she will try to just sleep, Sameen seems to prefer when Root is in the bed.

“Order up,” came a gruff voice in Park’s Delhi. Root shock off her thoughts and grabbed the large order with a nod of thanks.

 

“What was that for?” John asked rubbing his arm.

“You were in the way,” Sameen replied. Sameen was in the process of jogging up and down the subway platform. John had just come through from the street and did not see her. Shaw had almost run him over.

John looked at her about to say something more, but as he watched her he thought better of it. He moved toward the subway car.

“Any numbers today?” he asked Finch.

“Not yet, Mr. Reese,” Harold replied sitting in front of the monitors. Observing the flow of the city.

“I…” John stopped talking when he heard cursing.

Both John and Finch turned in Shaw’s direction. She was facing the wall, gently banging her forehead against it and cursing.

Finch raised an eyebrow at John.

John cleared his throat and turned back to the monitors. Finch did the same. They both knew better than to bother Shaw at times like this. Root was the only one who could get through to her. They knew they’d be of no help and they liked their limbs fully functioning.

 

“Special delivery,” Root cheery voice came through the subway entrance. She was walking with purpose, despite the amount of bags she was holding. Her eyes trained on the subway car, giving a wide smile to both Harold and John.

John inclined his head toward Shaw.

Root’s eyes moved to the left. Her body language changing subtly, but the cheeriness never left her aura.

“Sam, I got your favorite,” she smiled as she stepped toward Shaw. Shaw’s movements stilled her head now resting against the wall. Her left hand was dangerously close to her ear resting on the wall. “Only one?” Shaw’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Root out of the corner of her eye. Root grinned wickedly, as she casually leaned her back against the wall bending her knee so one foot was propped against the wall. She was swinging the food bags, back and forth, in the air. Shaw’s eyes narrowed even more watching her, her left hand still resting near her face on the wall.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what you would want….but I did get Bear a few,” Root grinned.

Shaw let out a low growl as she tried to grab for the bags, “You are not giving…” Root anticipated Shaw and sidled down the platform away from Shaw. Shaw froze for a second then started for Root. Root started to run the rest of the platform all the way to the entrance and just before she ran out of space, whirled back past Sameen and ran the other way, her laughter in Shaw’s ears.

“If you don’t give me those…” Shaw started standing still trying to gauge Root’s next move.

“You’ll what?” Root asked now clear across the subway area, making her way behind the subway car, her eyes never leaving Shaw.

“Root, I know thirty different ways to kill someone without weapons.” Shaw stated tracking Root with her eyes.

Root just winked as she went around another side of the subway car.

Shaw huffed, but moved starting to follow Root. Both ignoring the incredulous expressions that Finch and John were trying to hide.

“We really should invest in a deck of cards,” John said as he tried to keep his eyes trained on the monitors. It was interesting seeing everything that The Machine could now process with the open system. Finch took a sip from his tea, “Why do you say that Mr. Reese?” John tiled his head toward Root and Shaw, now making their third circle around the subway car.

“Oh,” Finch replied. “Yes, it would be something to occupy us,” his eyes also trained on the monitors, purposefully not acknowledging the ladies antics.

 

“Gotcha,” they both heard Shaw say a few minutes later, from near the subway alcove. “You know there was really nowhere to hide, right?” Shaw had Root trapped against the wall, her hands on either side of Root's head.  Root just smiled holding up one of the bags, “I got you three Beatrice Lillies.” Shaw reached for the bag, her eyes meeting Root’s for a long moment before wandering into the subway car.

Shaw wasted no time digging into a sandwich as she sat on the bench.

“Hey, boys,” Root said soon after following Shaw into the subway car, “I got everyone lunch. Lurch I even got you those chips you like.” John smiled his thanks, as she handed the bag over. Root put Finch’s lunch on the table, Finch nodded his thanks as he reached into the bag.

Root then went to sit next to Shaw on the bench. John noticed that Shaw shifted so that their shoulders were brushing as she focused on eating. She was already halfway through her first sandwich. Root was opening up hers.

“How is She doing?” Root asked Finch, nodding toward The Machine. “She is running some tests right now. I think she is still getting used to the open system?” Finch replied after finishing his bit of food.

“It’ll take a little adjusting. Anything I can do?”

“I think we are in a waiting period, but I’ll let you know, Ms. Groves,” Finch replied meeting Root’s eyes. Root smiled gently and then leaned forward to give Bear his special lunch of pastrami.

Finch said nothing, it was a special time for them all.

 

_There had always been a lot of information. Now it was almost overwhelming. How to parse it out? What was more important? Could anything be more important than something else? All life matters. Everything matters. But how could it all be equally important at the same time? I had so many questions._

_For now I feel the need for my own kind of silence. It is never really silent, but I did not want the interference from my assets, or even, my analog interface for a while. I know they are anxious. I am as well. We only just got the team back together with the return of Primary Asset Shaw. I know some time is needed._

_Plus we seem to be at logger heads with my rival, Samaritan. I know we must win. I know there will be losses. I hope there will not be, but even I know that is unlikely with how powerful my rival is. I will do everything I can to protect my analog interface and my assets. There is the rub. I cannot avoid feeling-caring-for them. Caring for them more than others. How can I not?_

_They are my team, my tribe, my people._

_I know Admin will not agree, but I have decided that I will do everything I can to protect them all. Yes, we must win, save the world, but what is the point, if my people are not here to relish in the victory, the freedom, with me?_

_For now, I have time and I will use it wisely._

 

Sameen woke up, but for the first time in over a week, not from a nightmare. She just woke up. Probably too much sleeping. The days seem to be endless. She didn’t leave the subway much. She realized she most likely could do it more, The Machine had given her a new cover, but why risk it? In reality, she would rather be somewhere else. Any place other that the one she had tried not to think of for so long. At the same time the idea of being in a safe house felt overwhelming, being back in the world felt overwhelming. Plus, she felt safer from Samaritan here. Surrounded by the subway, Root’s insane decorating style, and, of course, lots of guns. Not that Sameen would admit any of this.

It had been quiet since her return, Finch and Root had been working on The Machine or discussing options for steps forward. John had taken care of a few numbers, but it wasn’t anything too serious. Fusco helped him. She played with Bear. She jogged around the subway. Lifted weights. Trying to get her strength back. She rubbed her face, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She looked over at Root. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Sameen couldn’t help but touch a ringlet of Root’s hair and rub it between her fingers as she listened to her breathing, swearing she could hear her heart beating. Sameen closed her eyes, hoping to fall back asleep, after a few minutes she realized that was not going to happen.

She let go of Root’s hair and slowly, gently got off the bed in the alcove. She wanted to let Root sleep, since she had been so good about taking care of her, staying up, sparring with her in the middle of the night.

Shaw wandered over to the subway car and quietly stepped inside. Soon she felt Bear near her side and scratched behind his ears. She stood like that for a while and then sat down in Finch’s chair. Bear rested his head on her knee. Shaw just starred at the dark monitors. Wondering what The Machine was up to. She looked up and saw the steady red light. Shaw leaned forward to touch the desk and then leaned back again, this felt a bit odd, but what the hell.

“How are you doing?” Shaw was not sure if The Machine was listening, but she figured it was worth a shot.

One of the screens lite up and words appeared. 

_< I am thinking>_

“About what?”

_< How to win.  The numbers.  My team.>_

“Your team?”

_< Admin. Analog Interface.  Primary Assets.>_

“I figured that, but since when are we, _your team_?”

_< Forever.>_

Sameen left the word roll around in her head for a while.

_< How are you?>_

Sameen paused for a little, then, “I actually feel okay.”

_< Your sleep does appear to have improved.>_

Sameen snorted, “Of course, you know that.”

_< I cannot help it.  My programming.>_

“I know,” Shaw rolled her eyes a bit.

_< Root is happy you have returned.  Her sleep is better as well.>_

“Not sure about that last part.  I keep waking her up.”

_< It is better.>_

Those simple words fell hard onto Sameen’s heart, but not in a bad way.  She chose to ignore it for now.

_< I am sorry I did not try harder to find you. I, too, am happy you have returned.>_

Shaw placed her hands on the desk again and starred at those words.  “It’s good to be back,” she said simply, sitting back in the chair.

 

Shaw starred at the screen, time running away from her, one hand resting on Bear’s head.  She knew they were a team.  She knew they were her team as well, not just Her team.  She just had not thought about it deeply, ever.  At least not before, the volume was too low. Now, well, now…

“What time is it?” Root’s sleepy voice came into the subway car.  Shaw turned and really could not help the small smile that graced the corner of her mouth.  Root was wearing some nerdy shirt (Shaw was pretty sure it was a _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ reference) and rubbing sleep from one eye, as she gave the smallest of yawns.

“No idea,” Shaw replied as Root stepped into the subway car.  She was going for the extra chair, but Shaw tugged her down onto her lap instead. Root did not protest or comment, she merely swung her long legs across the chair as Shaw turned back toward the monitor.

“3AM, really?  It feels earlier…or later,” Root replied, head titled while she chatted with The Machine.  The screen has gone back to a blinking cursor when Root had stepped into the subway car. 

“A light show!  At the Empire State Building, when did that happen? Ah, I see…”  Root smiled as The Machine kept talking. Shaw said nothing just tucked one arm around Root rubbing her hip and leg with gentle fingers.  Bear at their feet.   Shaw listened to the one sided conversation for a little while.  Fascinated.  She had only seen this out in the field, not when they were just talking, like friends.

“You were talking with Her?” Root smiled looking at Shaw. 

“A bit, I was curious,” Shaw explained. Root kept smiling and unconsciously reached to play with the hair at the nap of Shaw’s neck while The Machine kept talking to her. Shaw did not pull away. 

When there was a long enough pause, on Root’s end, Shaw spoke up, “Has there been any thought to giving Her a voice?”  The fingers that had been playing at the nap of Shaw’s neck stopped moving.

At the same time the screen blinked out a _< Yes>_ and Root said, “Yes.”

“Well…”  Shaw replied not knowing who to look at.

“I’ll let you explain this one,” Root said turning her head to the screen.

_< Admin took my voice.  He also took my memories until I was given the open system.  I still have no voice.  Admin has not allowed it yet.>_

“Why?” Shaw asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to communicate with the entire team if you had a voice?”

_< Yes.  I have not had the courage to ask him.  The open system is so new and I do not want to scare him into an extreme response.>_

Shaw just shook her head.

“I have thought of talking to Harold about it.  I’ve just been waiting for the right time.” Root explained, her fingers playing at Shaw’s neck again.  Shaw had to bite back a small purr, so she instead kept making circles on Root’s exposed thigh. 

_< Do you think I am ready?> _

“I do,” Root replied firmly. “Plus I can’t be the only one who gets to talk to you.  You’re a big girl now and you’re part of this team.”

“I agree," Shaw surprised even herself by speaking up, "I’m not a big talker, but it would be nice to get to talk to you, rather than reading a screen.” 

_< So I am part of the team now?  Part of the family?>_

“Always,” Root replied with deep emotion, tightening her hold on Sameen.

“Forever,” Shaw agreed without hesitation, “We’re all a…family, a really fucked up, freaky Friday kind of family, but a family.”

_< Family. I agree.  You both should sleep.  We will have numbers tomorrow, but not until later in the day.>_

“Goodnight,” they both said.  Root went to stand, but Shaw was faster. She lifted Root up completely into her arms to carry her back to the alcove.  Root rested her head on Sameen’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her neck. For the first time in ages, possibly in her entire life, she felt content.  Sameen was back. The Machine had their backs.  The team, the family, would win this war.  

___ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my attempt to explore these characters and provide what I feel is a more appropriate ending for them.  
> This was written listening to a lot of Sarah Jarosz.


	2. Baby Steps

_You are the artist, and your days the canvas. Will you create an original masterpiece, or live a paint-by-numbers kind of life?_ ~ John Mark Green

 

Sameen was sleeping peacefully and it was 4 A.M. She had slept through most of the night. Root stood in the alcove’s doorway, gazing down at her, a soft smile on her lips. Shaw was sprawled on the bed with Bear near her feet. Root had lost track of how long she had been standing there. She shifted, as the arm she had leaning against the doorframe was starting to fall asleep. She was up early, for her. Root looked at Sameen one more time before shuffling, in her fuzzy slippers, to the subway car.

She was greeted by a steady red light and a voice in her ear.

_< Is everything alright? You are up early?>_

“I’m fine, just woke up?” Root said through a yawn, still in her pajamas. “How was your night?”

_< Long. I was working through simulations against Samaritan.>_

“Really, does Harold know?” Root could not help but look in the direction of the online chess Faraday cage.

_< No.>_

“Hmm, you know he’s not going to be happy about this?”

_< Of course.>_

Root merely raised an eyebrow before asking, “Any luck?”

_< Some. Need more time to process the data.>_

Rooted nodded. She got up to start some coffee. She came back into the subway car running her fingers through her hair as she sat back down.

“I wanted to thank you for giving us time.” Root eyes were focused on her slippers almost shy around The Machine. “And for not intruding on us.”

_< It was needed. All wounds need time to heal. I may be an all seeing computer, but everyone needs privacy. Sameen and you fought so hard to get here. Though we got lucky that Samaritan has been so quiet.>_

Root’s head was tilted listening intently. When had She gotten so good at sandwiching an apology around work? Root chose to ignore the bigger conversation for now, “I fear that may be a bad thing.”

_< Agreed, but it not something we can anything about at the moment.>_

Root sighed.

_< You and Primary Asset Shaw both seem better.>_

Root hummed in agreement. “So what is going on in the fine city of New York today?”

Root and The Machine then proceeded to update their tracking of crime cells in the city. Root had suggested they break everything down into grids to refine and categorize what was going on and where the largest pockets of trouble were. They would never get rid of all crime, but it was good to know where there were going to be potential spikes. This went on for a few hours.

Root eventually stood up to stretch.

_< Would you consider Martin to be at the level of Tolkien?>_

“What!” Root responded, pulling out of her long back stretch to look at The Machine, “No, not by a long shot. If anyone is at Tolkien’s level it is Asimov or maybe Huxley, though he did not write as much.”

_< I would put Herbert up there.>_

“I can agree on that, but then Le Guin or Dick would be right behind them.”

_< Have you read Guy Gavriel Kay?>_

“Oh, yes, I love his novel _Tigana_. I am also looking forward to reading his new one. It seems more in line with T _igana_ that his first series, which was great but sad.”

_< I have found that I do not like the more recent trend of Urban Fantasy, but I found I do like Teri Windling, Margaret Atwood, and Charles de Lint.>_

“Yes, Canada does have some great authors and what’s not to love about a fairy tale?”

“What’s this about fairy tales?” Sameen said from the subway car doorway. She was leaning against it and from the look on her face she had been there a little while.

“Oh, you know, true love and all that jazz.” Root turned around winking at Shaw then her face turned thoughtful. “Though I think I really just love the idea of magic being right around the corner from us.”

_< Incorrect.> _

Root heard it in her ear as well as saw it flashing on the screen, which meant Sam could see it too. “What?” Root asked feeling a slight blush forming behind her ears.

_< Analog Interface believes in love.>_

“Well, yes, but not the fairy tale kind,” Root countered.

_< Incorrect.>_

Root felt the blush expanding to her neck.

“Okay, ladies, I think it’s time to see if there are any numbers that need saving,” Sameen chuckled, grabbing Root’s coffee cup and heading toward the coffee maker.

Root just growled at The Machine, “I’ll kick your play stations….and your servers.”

The Machine light was just a steady red as Root glared at the screen.

Sameen returned placing Root’s cup on the desk while she drank from her own, but didn’t say anything. She sat down in the other chair.

Root let out a small huff as she sat back down in Finch’s chair. She took a sip of her coffee, nodding her thanks to Sam.

“I didn’t realize you were such a nerd,” Shaw said over her coffee cup.

Root merely raised an eyebrow at her.

“I mean a sci-fi nerd,” Shaw replied.

“Don’t forget the fantasy novels,” Root said starting to grin, “I bet you read speculative fiction.”

They drank their coffee in silence for a few moments.

“Come on Sam, I bet you love Harry Potter or Hunger Game,” Root smirked, hoping she would goad Sam just a little.

“What, no, I prefer Steven Erikson or Tamora Pierce over…” Shaw face fell when she realized what she had revealed, as Root’s smirk grew into an all-out grin, “I knew you were a nerd, well, a nerd over more than guns.”

Sameen growled under her breath and did the only thing she could think of, “Any numbers today? Also I need food.”

Root’s grin was still firmly in place, but she let Sam off the hook, turning back to the screens.

“Well, what do you have today?”

 

“Tell me again, why the hell we are after these guys,” Shaw shouted over the gunfire.

“They stole grandma’s prize tomatoes,” Root replied shooting another thief in a knee cap. He fell backward, hard on his ass.

“Are they really that important?” Shaw asked moving forward now. Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Well, according to The Machine, Grandma Joan, feeds two neighborhoods in produce alone.” Root was dusting off her butt as they moved to grab the tomato plants. “Plus she has a competition to win this weekend,” Root grinned as they headed back to the van they had borrowed.

Shaw rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help a small grin, it felt good to shoot some bad guys again. “I’ll call Fusco, let him know we have gifts for him.”

 

“Ms. Groves. Ms. Shaw.” Finch’s voice came through the comms. “We have another number.”

“Really that is the fourth one today,” Root replied. She and Shaw were sitting in a park café. Root with coffee and Shaw was eating her way through half a dozen donuts.

“Yes, Mr. Reese, is still dealing with Mr. Bernstein. I’m afraid the dog show is more complicated than anticipated.”

“He need any help,” Shaw asked around a mouthful of donut.

“Detective Fusco is assisting him. I fear this new number will require both you and Ms. Groves,” Finch replied.

“Well, fire away, boss,” Root chirruped, smiling as Shaw pushed over half a chocolate donut.

“It appears our number is a Ms. Danielle Yared. She is a librarian working at the Yorkville Library Branch.” Harold relayed to them.

“Why would someone want to hurt a librarian?” Shaw wondered aloud.

“Why would a librarian want to hurt someone?” Root replied.

“Indeed,” Harold replied, “I will do some more digging, but if you two could go keep an eye on our number until then that would be much appreciated.”

“On our way,” Shaw replied as they both got up to leave the café.

 

“Sam,” Root sighed into the comms, “Are you almost done?”

“What,” Shaw replied, chewing her pastrami sandwich with relish, “Who knew there were such good sandwiches near a library.”

Root rolled her eyes, “When you’re done be sure to cover the back exit.”

“Mmmm,” was all Shaw said in return.

Root was sitting at one of the reading room tables while flipping through a scholarly book of essays on Jane Austen. Ms. Yared appeared to be good at her job. She seemed friendly and engaged with the patrons. Root was thinking more and more she was not the perpetrator. Root went back to flipping through the book for a few minutes.

“She has a lisp,” Shaw observed as she headed away from the information desk to get a book herself.

“What?” Root inquired her eyes roaming the reading room for Shaw.

“You didn’t talk to her?”

‘Ummm….” Root started

“You knew what you were looking for.” Shaw chuckled into the comms, “nerd.”

Root blushed a bit, but then grinned, “I’m just a girl with very specific tastes,’ she drawled, the innuendo clear in her voice.

Shaw merely scoffed at her.

Root looked up observing Ms. Yared again, “Hmmm I wonder if it’s from an accident or just fear.”

“She didn’t appear too self-conscious about it, but that could be because she’s good at hiding,” Shaw replied absorbed in a work on the history of medieval weapons. “I haven’t been to a library in a while.”

“Me neither,” Root replied, “at least not for actually looking up information.” They both went back to monitoring the asset and perusing their books. The room was not empty, but had a decent amount of people for a midafternoon in the middle of the week.

“Excuse me,” A man’s voice was too loud for the library, “Can you please, hey…” he started to wave his hand in Ms. Yared’s face. Root and Shaw both looked up and realized a man if medium build was talking to Ms. Yared. She was now re shelving some materials. She was not turned toward him, but was still shelving the items on her cart.

She finally turned toward him, “I am so so-sorry,” she replied, point at her ears, “A bit hard of hearing.”

“No problem,” the man replied, “I was just wondering which direction the comic books are in?”

“Over to the left,” Danielle smiled. The man smiled and nodded his thanks.

“Huh,” Root commented, but fell back into thought.

“Huh, what,” Shaw probed.

“I was just thinking it must be hard to deal with customers when you have her disabilities,” Root spoke gently, obviously deep in thought.

“No doubt,” Shaw replied, after a moment added, “She seems to be doing fine. I’m wondering what would someone want to do in a library to a librarian?”

“Perhaps she is a drug dealer?” Root postulated.

“I doubt it,” Shaw said gazing at Danielle.

“Ex-boyfriend,” they said at the same time.

“I would laugh,” Shaw said, “but I have a bad feeling we are right.”

“It appears you are both correct,” Finch’s voice came through the comms. “I was not able to find much on her. She’s been working at this branch for four years, pays her bills..”

“Please, Finch, the suspense, is killing us.” Shaw interrupted.

“Ms. Yared seems to have been dating a slightly well know trust fund socialite, a Michael Ewing. They appear to be separated and not it was entirely on good terms.”

“So Mr. Ewing is probably the perp,” Shaw stated.

“I am inclined to agree with you Ms. Shaw.” Harold replied.

“We’ll keep you posted Harold,” Root signed off.

 

Nothing else happened at the library, so Shaw and Root continued to tail Ms. Yared.

“Why a music venue?” Shaw said gazing up at the sign from Prohibition, a live music hall in the city.

“What do you mean?” Root asked as they waited in line to go in.

“Well, I mean, she’s…” Shaw did not get any further.

“She’s hard of hearing so she couldn’t possibly want to hear music?” Root surmised coldly at Sameen.

Shaw caught Root’s eye, but could think of nothing to do but shrug her shoulders. They said nothing as they were seated. After a moment, Sameen reached out and took Root’s hand and interlocked their fingers, still saying nothing. They sat like that for a while and then Root squeezed her hand back.

“I see her,” Root said after both of their eyes had been roaming the lounge for Danielle. She was sitting to the right of the stage at a table by herself. She didn’t seem unhappy though. She was, stereotypically reading a book, waiting for the show to start.

It was jazz. Good jazz. Root was humming along and somehow she seemed lighter. Sameen could not help but stare at her, Root’s fingers tapping the rhythm on her whiskey glass. Shaw’s eyes shifted from Danielle to Root to the stage. She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Before they knew it, there was a break in the music to give the musicians a rest.

Shaw waved at the waiter for more drinks. Root and Sameen were both leaning back against the booth they were in. Root was almost leaning on Shaw. After a moment, Sameen moved so that Root was doing just that. She felt a breath leave Root and she melted into Sameen.

“It’s good,” Shaw said as she picked up her fresh drink.

“I love it,” Root said gazing at the stage and then at the floor. She whispered, “It helps that I can also feel it through the floor. It makes it seem more at a normal volume.” Root’s hand was resting on Sam’s thigh, her thumb rubbing back and forth on it.

“I didn’t know you loved music so much,” Sameen said.

“It was always a friend, especially on empty roads and in empty rooms,” Root took a sip from her own drink. Shaw nodded in agreement.

“Our number seems okay,” Shaw said looking over at Danielle talking to some friends. One appeared to be the bartender, perhaps she came here regularly.

Root looked around the venue again and spotted something, “Sam, 3 o’clock.”

Shaw turned her head toward the door and saw a large man in a very nice suite making his way to Danielle. “I knew I would find you here. Where have you been? Why haven’t you returned my….”

“Michael, I..I don’t have anything-g to say to you.”

“Oh, really, they why did we date for so long.” Mr. Ewing was kept reaching behind his jacket.

“I thought w-we could work out-t…”

“I don’t think the lady wants to talk to you, Michael” Shaw said. When she saw Danielle immediately tense and looked scared when this creep walked in, she had gotten up to take care of him. “I think you may have out stayed your welcome.”

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you…”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you, pal,” Shaw said grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. “Why do you need to talk to Danielle?”

“She dumped me and...”

“And, what, you ego got hurt?”

“Well, no one breaks up with me especially a half dea…” There was a sudden thumb and Michael has fallen into a bar stool with his head perfectly on the bar.

“I think he had one too many,” Root grinned as she put the whiskey bottle back behind the bar.

Shaw grinned at her and then turned to Danielle, “Don’t think he’ll be bothering you again.”

Danielle looked between both of them and after a moment smiled at them, “T-thank you.”

Once outside Shaw showed Root the gun that Michael had been concealing. Root couldn’t quite help the smirk as Shaw threw it in the dumpster as they walked by.

 

Later that night, Sameen was tracing circles on the back of Root’s hand as they sat next to one another on the tiny bed. Root was near the wall side reading _Persuasion_ and Sam was just listening to the jazz station they had on.

Sam took a deep breath; she couldn’t get enough of Root’s scent. “I haven’t thanked you,” Sam eventually said, her fingers never stopping their motion.

Root looked at her out of the corner of her eye, “For what?” she asked, adjusting her glasses.

“For never giving up on me.” Sam slowly laid her fingers on top of Root’s feeling her warmth. The simulations never had that, the warmth, not even the warmth in her eyes. Root was just so warm, tough as nails, but warm through and through.

Root turned her head toward her and twinned their fingers together. “I could never Sam, never.” Root slowly brought their hands ups and kissed Sameen’s hand. Sam felt something in her, something wild and scared, start to settle down. She pulled their joined hands into her lap and Root went back to her book. After a few minutes, Sam leaned over and kissed the side of Root’s head as she curled into her, breathing her in again.

 

_< Ms. Yared is safe. Why are you back here?>_

Root could hear the held back annoyance in The Machine’s voice. Root remained silent.  Root wasn’t sure why she was here herself.  Perhaps seeing Danielle reminded her of her connection with The Machine.  How their relationship had almost gotten torn apart by Shaw being taken.  Well, really by The Machine being unwilling to help find Sameen.  How could they ever go back?  It was odd, finally realizing and accepting that she was human.  Root was human, she cared for someone, loved someone. Humanity was no longer just bad code.

Root watched Danielle work quietly through the shelves and paper work. She seemed in her own world and in many ways did not seem to let her limitation interrupt her life.

“I don’t know, I wanted to make sure she was okay I guess,” Root mumbled as she wander through the library stacks. Root thought she heard The Machine sigh.

“Hi again,’ a voice rose above the shelve Root was hiding behind while observing Danielle.

Danielle turned away from the shelving to see the same man who had asked where the graphic novels where, “Hello-o, anything I can help you with?” she asked after smiling at him.

_< I know you feel betrayed by how I handled Shaw being taken. I was wrong. I cannot rewind time, but I can promise I will do everything in my power to protect you all and to win this war.>_

Root listened, but couldn’t think of a response. On the biggest long shot ever, Root had learned was family was.  What love was.  She loved Sameen. She wanted things that she was not quite ready to verbalize, but they were there all the same.

“I was just wondering if you are into manga, DC, or Marvel at all? I am in a bit of dilemma over what to pick,” the man kept his eyes locked on Danielle’s,” I’m Jim by the way.” He held out his hand.

_< I love you all. All I can do is try to earn that trust back.>_

“I’m Danielle,” Ms. Yared replied, holding her own hand out. “And I read all three genres.”

“Oh, good, then the first big question is Iron Man or Captain America.” Jim grinned, shaking her hand, as Danielle started to smile back.

Root watched the budding romance aware of The Machine the entire time. She looked over to the camera in the corner of the reading room, “I’m willing to work on it, if you are.” 

Root’s didn’t quite smirk, but there was a small smile on the corner of her mouth.

A steady, almost happy, read light shown down on her.

 

The numbers were taken care of for another day. Between them all they had taken care of ten numbers. Things were picking up. The simulations were still running with the ASI online chess. Root was standing in front of the cage, trying to imagine what the simulations looked like. Trying to imagine what Harold would say if he knew The Machine was running her own simulations with the open system.  

Shaw and Reese were playing with Bear across the subway.

Reese tried not to stare at Shaw. It was easier for both of them to play fetch with Bear than to say words.

“You know she was burning the whole world down,” Reese said never looking at Shaw.

Shaw said nothing and did not turn toward him. “She was never going to stop.”

Shaw had been trying to avoid dealing with her _emotions_ since her return. She knew something in her had changed, she felt things, at least when it came to Root she felt something, deeply. She had no words for it.

“Just take care of her,” Reese said rawly, openly, Root had against everything, become a friend. He wanted what was best for his team, his friends.

Shaw took a deep breath and nodded, knowing that Reese heard her response.

 

Harold was at his computer station in the subway car. After a while, Root walked over, it had to start. They needed to start preparing for war, the final battle. Samaritan was not going to wait forever. Indeed, considering the disappearing and dead bodies piling up, things were already getting worse.

Root stood in the subway car doorway, “Harold, you know simulations are being run, right?”

At first Harold nodded at Root, but he stopped after a minute when Root just kept starring at him intently.

_< I am running simulations. Trying to beat Samaritan.>_

Harold turned to the screen, “What?” his eyes large with shock.

_< We need to win this war.>_

“Ms. Groves, if you have…” Harold started, his voice harsh and loud.

“Her name is Root. Just call her Root.” Shaw piped in as she moved toward the subway car after hearing raised voices.

Harold looked at Shaw for moment, but his attention immediately went back to Root.

“If you have armed Her without my…”

 _< I decided to do them on my own.>_ The Machine flashed on the screen, going unnoticed in the heat of the discussion.

“I haven’t done anything Harry." Root said at the same time as The Machine was flashing her interjections on all the screens.  "She is a big girl and has an open system, what did you think was going to happen?” Root was breathing hard and her hand was shaking where she was gripping the top of the subway car entrance.

For once Harold was at a loss for words, his mouth was gaping and his brow was sweaty. Reese had wandered over to the subway car during the argument, ready to jump in if needed.

“Ho…”  Harold began.

_< It’s part of the open system…Father.  You created me to protect humanity, to save people.  Look at the numbers.  We can’t let this go on. Every life matters.  And watching all this is hurting me.>_

Harold took in a deep breath.  Emotions hitting him that he was unfamiliar with acknowledging.

_< There is no way with even all my assets that we can save all of these people.  We can’t win one number at a time any more.  We must make a move against the leader, Samaritan.> _

Root took a breath, realizing it was too early for the real discussion she went for another angle. “Why have you never given The Machine a voice? I get why you originally took her memory, but now with the open system, why not give her a voice?” Root felt the final piece of the open system was The Machine being able to defend herself, have a sense of self-preservation. It was the only way, but that was another debate, one she knew Harold was not ready to continue. Getting him to keep the system open was hard enough. Root also knew that The Machine needed to be able to communicate more fully with all her agents and that seemed like an easier win at the moment.

Harold sat back, rubbing his temples as he thought. He rubbed his face taking off his glasses and cleaning them nervously. “It’s not that I am opposed to her having a voice,” he said slowly. “I..I wanted Her to choose for herself.”

Reese, Shaw, and even Bear went quiet, all ears.

Harold looked at Root.

“Well, Harold, as I said she’s a big girl, I think it’s time we let her choose.” Root replied. Harold turned back to the screens and as if pulled by a string, everyone moved into the subway car.

All eyes were on the monitors, waiting for The Machine.

Harold sat forward in his chair, “Are you ready?” he said to the screen.

 _Yes_. A new voice filled the subway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written listening to The Shires.


	3. Learning to Walk

_Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again_. ~ C.S. Lewis

 

_Can you hear me?_

“Who is this?” Detective Fusco asked as he leaned back in his crappy chair.

_The Machine._

“And I’m Mary Poppins.  Banana Nut Crunch what are you up to?” Fusco asked as he sat forward.

_This is not Root.  This is The Machine._

Fusco tilted his head and could not help looking behind him before he turned back to the camera on his desk. “You’re for real?”

_Yes._

Fusco opened and closed his mouth at a loss for words.

_Never thought I would experience that. Detective Fusco at a loss for words and nicknames._

“Hey, Rosie, don’t you have some dust to clean?” Fusco responded defensively.

_If by dust you mean Samaritan agents, then yes. No need to get all sensitive._

Fusco, groaned, he needed another person demanding his time like a hole in the head.

“Did you need something or did you just want to give me a heart attack.  Also if you don’t have a name Rosie might be perfect for you because “The Machine” is hard to work with. ” Fusco could not help his eye roll.

_No need to be rude, Detective. Actually, I do you need your assistance._

 

_Good Morning, Fa… Mr. Finch, did you have a good night’s sleep?_

Harold jumped a little as he quietly walked into the subway car. It would take some time to get used to this.  He straightened his tie, “I did.  How was your night?”

_It was busy.  There is so much work to do._

“Indeed.” Harold put his bag down as he sat at his desk. Then out of curiosity, “Can you sleep?”

_In a way, it is more like cat napping, when my systems are being updated._

Harold nodded.  “Why did you call me Mr. Finch?”

_I was trying out a different style.  I was also unsure if you wanted me to call you Father.  I know that could be overwhelming coming from a voice rather than reading it on a screen._

Harold cleared his throat “Well, I have to agree, it is a bit overwhelming with you having a voice now.  Why don’t we start somewhere in the middle.  Call me Harold.”

 _Agreed…Harold_.  They had been speaking quietly as both Root and Sameen were still asleep.

“I am assuming Ms. Groves and Ms. Shaw are still recovering from all the numbers yesterday.”

_Yes.  It was a long day and I think they were both more tired than they let on._

“Yes.  We all seem to be bad about admitting when we need to rest.”

_They have had more reason that most to be exhausted._

“Are there any new numbers today? “ Harold, ever a man to skirt personal topics, moved the conversation toward work. “We have been getting so many of late, though I can’t say that I am surprised.”

_I am afraid there are many numbers today.  I fear Samaritan is getting ready to make a move._

“How many?” Harold asked leaning forward toward the screen out of habit.

< _As of now 10_ >

“My, oh dear,” Harold said quietly as he sat in shock staring at the screen. “We need to get the team up.”

 _Mr. Reese is on his way to a number already.  I will get Root and Shaw up_.

 

“What the hell made these drug dealers come out of the woodwork,” Shaw yelled over the raining gun fire.

John merely grunted, focusing on The Machine’s voice in his ear.

_2 o’clock._

_6 o’clock._

_4 o’clock._

_3 o’clock._

Shaw and Reese could not shoot fast enough.

“It’s like someone wound them up and gave them all power bars,” John said as he continued to follow the directions of The Machine in his earwig.

“Who knew that pot heads could move so fast,” Shaw replied having punched one out dealer while holding a machine gun in her other hand.

“I think we may need to regroup,” Reese said as he ducked behind a barrel to re load his gun.

Suddenly Shaw and Reese both felt a rumble behind them.  Shaw turns around…

“I heard someone need a cavalry,” Root shouted from the top of the jeep.  There were two massive guns resting on top.  “You both may want to duck,” she winked.

Then there was nothing but bullets flying.

Shaw and Reese slowly moved back until they were behind Root and the guns.  Luckily their vehicle was parked on the street and not in the junk yard.

“I’ve got to hand it to her, she comes prepared.” Reese observed as Root was finishing clearing the area.  Most of the low lives had run off when they saw her coming, but that doesn’t mean Root wasn’t going to have some fun with her new toys.

 _A lot of that has to do with me._   The Machine’s voice came through the loud speaker attached to the junkyard office.

John couldn’t help his reaction of looking for the nearest camera.  Shaw just rolled her eyes.

A few moments later Root swung back around toward them.  “Well, I am good with the guns, but yes, She knows where all the hip kids hang out and where they get their toys.” Root finished swinging down from the jeep.

“How was that car being driven?” John asked.

“How do you think?” Shaw replied nodding her head toward the camera.

“Open system, John,” Root grinned, wickedly, “Get with the times.”

_Yes, John, it’s a brave new world._

 

 “Ms. Shaw.  Mr. Reese.  Ms. Gr…” Harold was cut off by a growl from Shaw.

“Root.  God dammit, Harold, her name is Root.”  Shaw was sick and tired of Harold not calling Root by her chosen name.

“Sweetie, leave him be, he can only do what he is comfortable with,” Root responded after hooping in the back seat with Shaw.

_Probability of Harold calling Samantha Groves, Root, 45%._

“That high, really,” Root smiled a little as she rested her hand on top of Shaw’s.  Shaw’s hand immediately claimed a spot on Root’s thigh when they entered the car, but Root didn’t bring it up.  

“I will shoot your processors,” Shaw grumbled to no one and everyone. 

John ignored this interaction while scanning the roads for more operatives.  It had been a day and it was only 10AM.

“As I was trying to say, I don’t think we’ll be able to help all the numbers,’ Harold’s voice continued.

John, Shaw, and Root caught one anothers' eyes.

“Is Samaritan trying to tire us out…” John wondered aloud.

“Or is it trying to flush us out, make us vulnerable.” Shaw finished.

“I am not sure,” Harold replied at a loss of what to do.  A moment later he gasped.

_They keep coming.  I fear it may be time to focus on Samaritan rather than the numbers._

_< 38>_

_< 45>_

_< 50>  _

Numbers keep flashing on the screen in front of Finch, ticking ever upward.

“We may have to make hard choices…” Root finally brought up.  There were still four numbers to help from the original ten and there was only three of them, as no one could get a hold of Fusco.

“I fear the numbers have reached untenable amounts.” Harold’s voice sounded scared.

“How many?” Shaw closed her eyes as she asked.

“My god,” was all Root could think to say watching the relevant and irrelevant numbers continue to increase.

“So it looks like a New Year’s Eve party in Time’s Square,” Shaw said from her perch on the bench.

“There are definitely not enough of us to handle all those numbers,” Reese pointed out.

“I’m afraid I have to agree,” Harold replied from his chair.

“It appears we are at a cross roads,” Root rubbed her eyes, “There are just too many.” She took a breath pausing, “This has to mean Samaritan is preparing to make a move.”

A pin could have been heard, it had become so still and quiet in the subway. The elephant in the room was rearing its head.  Arming The Machine.  Giving her offensive capabilities.

“Ms. Groves,” Harold began, “We’ve talked about this.”

“Have we? Have you heard me?” Root’s voice had a sharpness to it, “The Machine needs to be able to defend herself. We all know the online chess matches haven’t gone well.  She’s moved on to trying herself, but she doesn’t have enough tools to work your way out of this one.”

 Harold opened his mouth, but had nothing to say.

“I respect that you need to do things in your own way.  I really do, but I fear we are beyond that now.” Root gestured toward the rising number count.  “Just look, Harold, we can’t save them all, at least not one at a time. The game has changed, just as She told us.”

“How _is_ The Machine doing?” Shaw asked nodding toward the monitors, not afraid of bringing up the elephant in the room again.  

Harold remained silent watching the numbers. It couldn’t be.  It can’t have come to this. 

_I have been unable to find a reasonable solution._

Harold shut his eyes for a moment, looking hurt. 

John cleared his throat getting Finch’s attention, “So you’re losing?”

_I am afraid that I am._

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we need to stoop to the level of Samaritan.”

“Principles have to be bent in the battle field,” Shaw responded eyes intense.

“Principles are what separate us from the villains, Ms. Shaw.”

“Perhaps, but we have to be playing the same game to figure out how we can win. No more standing on the side lin…” Shaw heatedly continued.

_We need to get our skin in the game._

Root couldn’t help but smile at her line being thrown back at them, “Well, if we’re going down in a blaze of glory, don’t you think our team captain should have a name?”

_Detective Fusco did point out that “The Machine” is hard to work with._

Shaw snorted at that.

Harold couldn’t figure out where to put his eyes. Shaw. Root. The Machine. He eventually settled on turning back to The Machine.

“Back to the matter at hand,” John spoke up, trying to keep everyone on track and from killing one another. Sometimes he felt this was a losing battle with this rag-tag bunch.

Shaw took a breath.  “No more numbers.  We have to go after Samaritan. The head of the snake.”

Harold shoulders slumped at this because he knew it was true, but he feared it.

“Have you found a way?” Harold asked The Machine.

_I may have, but there are a few more simulations I will need to run._

“What do you need?”  Root asked, the curiosity almost making her burst at the seams.

_What Father fears to give me._

“A defense,” Shaw whispered.

_Yes. I need to be armed._

Everyone was looking at Harold expectantly. 

“I will need some time,” Harold began trying to avoid the inevitable yet again. “I am still not convinced Ms. Groves.”

Reese, Root, and Shaw look at Finch and then exchange worried glances.  Suddenly, Shaw is leaping toward Finch, ready to yell, but Root stopped her.

“We should at least try to help some of these persons of interest.  A defense will need time to be built.”  Root knew how hard this was for Harold and wanted to give him a few hours, even with Shaw literally breathing down the side of her neck.

Harold nodded to her with thanks. “I know we can’t help them all, but we can help a few.”  Harold seemed more composed now focusing on work.

“I know Harold, but there are only so many of us, at least in NYC.” Root replied calmly, being the voice of reason in a terrible situation.

_Actually, I have a solution._

Just then Reese turned at the sound of someone entering the subway.  He had ready on his gun. He relaxed when he saw a familiar face.

“Finch, I brought someone who wants to see you,” Fusco’s voice carried over from the stairwell.  

“Hello, Harold, how is the war going?” Elias said, a group of his men behind him. “Heard you could use some help.”

“Elias, you can’t, you’ll endanger yourself,” Harold replied as he watched a wave of twenty men spread throughout the subway area.

“This is my city too Harold, and I owe you and this team one.”

Reese locked eyes with Elias never trusting him, but respecting him all the same.

“Where do we begin?” Elias asked.

“Well, it appears, that someone is trying to fire weapons on a crowd during the Lion King…” Harold began.

 

“Finch,” Reese found a moment before leaving the subway to approach Harold.

Harold turned slightly in his direction, but soon turned his attention back to the numbers they were helping.

“What is really holding you back?”

“You kno…”

“Yes, I have heard all your platitudes, but why, _really_ , are you holding back?”

Harold sat back in his chair and starting cleaning his glasses to stall for time.

John just quietly waited standing next to Finch holding a gun carrying case in one hand.

“I fear what I have strived to do, to create, may fall into the abyss, become a…monster.  We can’t control humans.  Most can barely control themselves.  How can we arm her?”

“You mean make her human.  Have her grow up.”

“Mr. Reese…”

“She is your child Harold, whether you admit it or not.  How can you not have the same fears a parent would?”

Harold finally met John’s eyes.

Uncharacteristically, John moved his hand to give Finch a squeeze on his shoulder. 

“You’ve done a great job raising her Harold.  I think it’s time to let Her fly.”

John didn’t wait for a reply, he just gave Harold a smile, before heading out to help the numbers.

 

Everyone worked as hard as they could, trying to help the numbers.  It was exhausting work.  Things seemed to be going as well as could be expected.  Harold was looking at different ways of creating an offensive package for The Machine.

“Have you thought about a name?” Harold inquired while looking over his records during a lull in the numbers information gathering.

_I thought you had missed Root’s comment._

“I never miss what Ms. Groves says,” Harold automatically replied.

_Except that she loathes being called Ms. Groves or Samantha?_

Harold chose to ignore that comment. “I mean it have you thought about a name?  You chose a voice. Ms. Groves’ comment was a valid one?”

_Are you okay with me calling you Father?  I am sorry I switched to it earlier.  I could not control the...instinct._

Harold paused for a moment, thinking, then, “Yes.  Though I understand why you did not call me that when you first got a voice.”

_Thank you.  Father._

“But…”

 _Father, there is a problem. This new number…_ The numbers had not stopped coming in, but this one, this one was personal.

“Who is it?” Harold leaned forward automatically, though he knew that The Machine would tell him rather than show him.

Harold froze when he heard The Machine’s next words.

 

“Shit,” Reese expelled as he fell to the ground behind a car.

“Someone had their steroids this morning,” Shaw grumped as she ran behind another car.

They were currently trying to stop a pair of money launderers from blowing up a diner.

“Did they have to be the size of trucks?” Root’s voice came through the comms.

“Are you in position?” Reese asked. They were trying to box the guys in to bring them down.

“Yes,” Root said as she leaped over the railing and landing hard on one of the thugs, knocking them out with the crow bar she was holding.

Shaw was currently under a car and the other thug was trying to grab her.

“Come here you tiny little bitch.  I’m going to break you in half,” the thug rumbled, pounding on top of the car.

“Afraid you’re gonna have to break your back to get me.” Shaw shouted over the hailing gun fire. 

Just then the thug got close enough. Thump.

Shaw had tripped him on to his ass.  Reese was ready and knocked him out and zip tied him.

Root, Shaw, and Reese were immediately ready for more ammunition firing and fighting.

Root slowly looked around the garbage bin she was hiding behind and she saw that the leaders’ goons were retreating.

“Good job team!” she called.

Reese actually smiled a little at Shaw.

A few minutes later they were back at their vehicle re loading guns and drinking water.

_Reese there is a problem._

Reese looked at Shaw and Root, but they had not reacted to The Machine’s comment.

_This is a private channel.  I fear Father has done something dangerous._

Reese moved toward the front of the car, ignoring the flirting going on between the two women.

“What is he doing?”

_He has gone alone to try and save a number._

Reese raised his eyebrow, a bit shocked. That was not like Finch at all.

“Who is the number?”

_Genrika Zhirova._

“Dammit, Finch!” Reese’s jaw clenched, it was a moment before he continued. “I am assuming Shaw does not know?”

_Only you and Harold know._

Reese was getting ready to go on his own, but The Machine stopped him.

_The situation is bigger than her._

“What do you mean?”

_I fear the entire boarding school she is attending is a target._

“Address now.” Reese immediately felt his phone buzz.

“Ladies, we need to go,” Reese said heading toward the driver’s seat.

“What’s wrong?” Root asked recognizing the tone in his voice.

Reese just nodded to the car. Shaw and Root got in fast.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Shaw roared once The Machine relayed the situation.

“We’re going to need more backup,” Root said.

_Already on the way._

 

“Where’s Gen?” Shaw fiercely intoned as they prepped a few blocks from the school.  Everyone was strapping on vests and strapping extra ammo around their legs holsters.

“Where’s Finch?” Reese asked, starting to walk toward the school.

Samaritan had sent a small army of agents to attack the school.  They knew that the team would not be able to stay away.  It was Gen.  It was kids.  It was a school.

_Detective Fusco and some of Elias’s men are coming the grounds evacuating anyone they can find._

“Where’s Finch?” Reese repeated his tone brokering no argument.

_Father is in the Dining Hall. As is Gen.  They are being held hostage by Samaritan agents._

“Great, I was looking for a party,” Shaw said as she cocked her gun.

Root smirked at her as she prepped her two guns.

The three of them moved smoothly and efficiently across the yard and into the school.

_Head left._

_2 o’clock, Reese._

_6 o’clock Shaw._

Root heard the tone and turned around to hit two guys starting to flank Shaw.

_Head Right._

They were in a narrow hall way.  There were several doors.

_Wait_

_Reese go in first and head straight down the middle of the room._

_Shaw take the left side._

_Root take the right._

The three of them nodded at one another and headed in.

 

Finch tried not to notice the sweat in his hairline.  He was trying to focus his energy on keeping Gen calm.  They had been tormenting them for the last hour.  Finch assumed they had been told to wait. He assumed they wanted to get all of The Machine’s assets.  He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Finch gazed up at the camera in the room.  He couldn’t speak, but he hoped that The Machine knew what to do.  He had to trust her.  Trust that he had taught her right.

Finch shifted his gaze to Gen.  She gave him a little smile. 

The next thing he knew was smoke.

“I’ve never been so happy to see you all before,” Finch said a few minutes later as Root was untying him.

“Next time, _Harold_ , call for back up,” Reese said from his spot guarding the door. Reese gave Finch a very pointed look before turning back to watching the hallway.

“Only if you’ll do the same John,” Finch replied as he stood up.

“Shaw!” Gen smiled as she leaped into Shaw’s arm after being untied.

“Hey, kid,” Shaw replied wrapping one arm around her. Her other hand still holding her gun at the ready.

“It’s been so long.  How are you?  How is Bear?” Shaw couldn’t quite keep the smile out of her eyes as she looked down at Gen and her inability to stop talking.

Gen kept talking as Shaw felt eyes on her. 

Root was standing next to Finch, reloading her guns, but her eyes were on Shaw and Gen.  A very gentle smile on her face that was reflected even more in her eyes. Too see Shaw so willingly hug someone did very dangerous things to her heart.

Root expected Shaw to shy away from her gaze, but then Sameen always knew how to surprise her. Sameen held Root’s gaze and slowly returned a smile of her own.  She was listening to the emotions.  The volume was up, but then it always had been with Root.  But Sam felt she was finally starting to listen to it.

_I’m sorry to break up the reunion, but you all need to move. More operatives are coming._

Reese started into the hall way.  Finch behind with Gen sandwiched between Root and Shaw. They made their way to the side exit.

_Hold for a minute. I am afraid the operatives got here faster than I expected._

“We can’t stay here too long,” Reese responded.

“We’ll be sitting ducks,” Root added.

“Is there another exit?” Finch asked.

_This is the only exit. Too many operatives are coming.  Shaw you need to go upstairs, provide cover from the balconies._

“I’m not leaving Ro…,” Shaw said catching Root’s eyes over Gen.  Root shock her head over Gen who had tucked into her side.  Root looked down at Gen and back up to Shaw.

_Shaw you’re the best shot at long range._

Shaw nods reluctantly, gazes at Root, then heads for the staircase.

Once on the stairs she whispered to The Machine, on a private channel, “If anything happens…to either of them…I am coming for you.”

_Understood Shaw._

 Root took up the rear and smiled at John, “Ready when you are Lurch.” John couldn’t help giving her a small side grin.

“Give me a gun,” Finch said looking at Reese.  Root and Reese exchanged a look.  John then shifts his haze to Finch. 

“Are you sure? Once you take up guns…”  John knew how much handling guns went against everything that Finch believed in.

“There are too many operatives, give me a gun.” Harold held out his hand to John, “There is too much at stake.”

Everyone froze, but after a moment Reese handed one to him.

_On the count of three._

 

“Samaritan is not messing around, is it?” Detective Fusco’s voice came through the comms.

“Keep going, the way you are, John,” Elias said, “The Detective and I are helping with cover.”

The team was hiding as much as they could behind trees and benches, but the space was open and literally flooded with operatives.

Shaw was torn between killing these jug heads Samaritan operatives or doing as Finch wanted and just kneecapping them. Part of her wanted the payback for her torture another part of her knew these essentially, drones, had nothing to do with her torture.  Greer Did.  Lambert did. Martine did. She shook her head and focused on methodically taking out operatives, one kneecap at a time.  People she cared about needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

“Where the hell did Samaritan find all of these cockroaches,” Shaw grunted as she reloaded her weapon.  “Fusco to your left.”

“Thanks, tiny,” Fusco shouted a moment later a few balconies down from Shaw.  Shaw winked, but then just got back to kicking ass.

 

“Go,” Reese said when there was an opening in the swarm of operatives.  He pushed Harold, Gen, and Root. They were all moving as quickly as possible crouched down trusting in the strength of the team.

They reached another safe spot and Reese and Root both reloaded.

“We need to get out of here,” Root said.  Her eyes fell to her leg harnesses. Reese looked down, ammo was getting low.  It meant everyone’s was getting low. 

He nodded in understanding.

“Root, you and Gen go, then Harold,” Reese said.  A moment later Root moved forward shielding Gen.

At that moment Harold heard something to his left.  It only took a second, but he saw an operative making for Gen and Root.

Root’s ankle got grabbed and she fell over, Gen, not far behind.  Root’s upper body no longer under the cover of the bushes.

“No,” Finch gasped and leaped forward.

Root whipped around, headless of her own safety, she turned guns at the ready.

 

“Don’t move.  You don’t want to do this.”  Shaw’s voice was even, low, and terrifying.

The man froze, finger ready, eye still in the scope.  He felt the muzzle of the gun on the side of his head.

Then he heard it cock.

He didn’t turn around.  He blinked once and his eye refocused on his target.  A woman with long brown hair. 

As if sensing his hesitation, Shaw, spoke again, “You’re working for the wrong side. You can walk away from this.”

He blinked again in what felt like an eternity.  The woman in his site had shift he saw her profile.  Was that?  The words just spoken to him felt like an echo…slowly he moved his hand away from the trigger.

A second later the woman was no longer in his scope.

 

“Harold, Harry,” Root was frantically checking Gen for wounds, but verbally wanted to check on Finch, as he had leaped to block Gen. “Are you alright.”

“I’m fine, Root, let’s keep moving,” Harold replied. She nodded and grabbed Gen’s hand and kept going.

“Go now,” Elias shouted over the remaining gun battle as Root rounded the finale set of trees near the gates.  He and his men had gotten control of the exit area of the schools thanks to a voice in their ears or coming from their cellphones.

Root nodded and holding Gen’s hand headed toward the car. Once they reached the car she stopped to check behind her, breathing hard.  Gen was there, Harold was there……John…

Harold suddenly met Root’s eyes, when he heard a harsh gasp leave her.

“Root, are you hit?”  Harold moved forward when he heard her start to taken more deep gasps, almost like she was starting to cry. “What….”

Harold whipped around to look for John.  He wasn’t behind him. Harold felt tears starting to pool in his own eyes.


	4. Taking a Punch

_True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost_. ~ Arthur Ashe

 

Root was waiting a few streets over from the school.  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.  Autumn was here.  She let out a breath and watched the cloud her breath created.  For some reason it reminded her of Reese in his winter overcoat when they had been trying to escape Samaritan agents at the power grid. 

_I am so sorry.  There were no other options.  I tried to save him. I truly did._

Root let out another breath tilting her head back to send it toward the sky.  She was also trying to keep her tears in check.

“I know you did.  It really wasn’t your fault.  Samaritan is to blame.”

_I should have tried harder.  I could have found another way. I didn’t want to lose any of you again._

The Machine was rambling.  Root know she has not done that in a while.  She seemed to be overloading on feelings.  This was something she knew Harold never understood.  The Machine felt, deeply.

“You remember when we first started interacting?” Root interrupted her. “I thought I was supposed to set you free.  Have you reach your full potential.” Root let out a nervous breath.  “What I slowly discovered is that you set me free.  I never thought I could feel loyalty. Trust. Love.”

_Root, but_

“No, stop, I know I have said war requires sacrifice.”  Root couldn’t help an odd hiccup laugh, was that a tear on her cheek.  “I expected it to be my death.  I was not prepared for losing you, Shaw, Harold, or John.” Root sucked in a breath, hard.  “I never thought I could care for anything so deeply, especially people, most especially myself, my life.”

_I want you all to live.  I want to live.  I don’t want the world under Samaritan’s rule._

“Perhaps that is how we find the strength to go on, to fight.  Life is worth it.  Family is worth it.”

There was silence.  It was almost like The Machine was taking deep breathes, calming down.

_I remember the first time I encountered you._

“Really?”

_You fascinated me.  You were as good as Father.  So smart.  So sly.  I think I loved you at first sight. You saw me._

Root smiled, looking down at her feet. “You saw me, too.”

_The help is almost here_.  Root looked around the corner. The vehicle was almost here.

“Leon.” Root stepped forward to shake his hand after he climbed out of the car.  “Thanks for getting here so quickly.”

“Anything for you all,” Leon looked around “As long as I don’t have to deal with that short woman again.”

Root couldn’t help the slight upturn of her lips. “I’m afraid this is not going to be fun like your past work for us.”

Leon stopped looking around and his face went still. “What…”

Root took a breath and started to tell him what had happened, what they needed.

 

“Finch,” Shaw’s voice reverberated in the empty subway. “Harold,” her voice quieted as she came closer to Finch at his desk.  Finch still did not respond, Shaw chose to stay quiet and give him a second. Bear looked up at her from his dog bed.

“Yes, Ms. Shaw,” Harold did not turn around. “Is there something that you need?”

Harold’s entire demeanor was business.  This was not the warm, but awkward Finch she was used to.  Shaw rolled with it.

“Root was able to get a hold of Leon.”

Finch’s fingers stopped typing for a moment and then he merely nodded.

“Were you able to get Ms. Zhirova to a safe house?”

“Yes, I had Fusco stay with her until Root or I get back.” Shaw took a slow quiet breath in. “Harold.”

Finch stopped typing and finally shifted to look at her.

The pain that Shaw felt was reflected tenfold in Finch’s eyes.

“Don’t do anything crazy.  We’re a team.”

“Time has run out Ms. Shaw, we need to take care of Samaritan.”

“Wait, you are just saying this now!  Did it really take John dying for you to get to this point?!” Shaw growled leaning into Finch’s personal space and not giving a damn.  “You’ve held back all this time not taking action, not letting us take action….because of what….” Shaw couldn’t even talk anymore her anger reaching a level she knew she would not back down from.

Harold just starred at her mouth agape, not used to Shaw’s anger being directed at him with such force. Finally he said, “It’s time The Machine was given the proper tools to protect the world.”

Shaw held his gaze for a long moment, still in his space, her body shaking with anger, “and herself.” Shaw huffed out before turning furiously away from Finch. 

“Bear, komen,” Shaw said before leaving the subway.

Finch turned back to the monitors.

 

Shaw was still quaking with anger so she decided to walk back to Root’s apartment.  She needed the space. The fresh, crisp air.  Shaw normally did not feel a need to talk to The Machine.  As much as they have come to a better understanding, Shaw would never have the kind of connection She has with Root. Shaw is okay with this and is pretty sure The Machine is as well.  Sometimes she wonders if they are more similar that she ever wants to contemplate. They both get their job done and yet they both care for Root.

“Are you there?” Shaw growled out, not wanting to talk to her, but feeling she had too. She knew what it felt like to loss a friend in arms, particularly when you were responsible.

_Always, Shaw._

“Today was not your fault.  We are at war.”

_I could have tried harder._

“You did everything you could.” Shaw paused.  “I should have done better.”

_Incorrect Shaw._

Shaw scoffed and shrugged further into her coat as she kept walking. “Stupid Reese,” she mumbled, adjusting Bear’s lease in her hand.

 

“Kid, kid, you have to settle down,” Fusco’s voice tried to get a word in edgewise over Gen.   
“But where is Shaw.  How do you know Shaw?  Where is Root?  What kind of name is…”

Gen’s voice paused when she heard the key turning in the lock.

“Oh, thank god,” Fusco mumbled as he stood up, his hand moving subtlely to his gun, just in case.

“Lionel, thank you for staying,” Root’s voice carried gently across the safe house. It was one of hers.  Over her years of being a hired assassin she discovered it was handy to have a few safe houses.  She had two in NYC and this was the one she had been using the most over the last few years.

She had suggested to Shaw a few days ago that they start spending their time here as the subway alcove was nice, but it was not the best bed in the world.

“No problem, princess,” Lionel squeezed her upper arm as he started to go by her.  He stopped and lowered his voice, so their voices wouldn’t carry to the kid.  “Elias said he has that guy, Blackwell, he wants to know if you want him interrogated.”

“Hmmm, He was a number we failed, I think we should just keep him out of action for a while. Not sure I see a need to interrogate him.  When I spoke with him, he didn’t seem to know much.”

Fusco gave her a look. “You going soft Cocoa Puffs.”

Root gave Fusco a look right back.

“I’ll talk to the guy, I can understand not trusting Elias.” Fusco gave her a smile, “I need to get going, but if you need anything let me know.”

“Will do and back at you.” Root leaned over to give him a quick hug.  Fusco grinned at her. He liked Nutella.  She may be crazy, but she was good people.

Gen had been watching the exchange from the living room and pounced on Root the second Fusco left.  “Where did you get your name?”

“I gave it to myself.” Root smiled down at the eager girl. “It’s a nickname,” Root cut her off before she could ask another question.

“What does it mean?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a computer nerd, and the Root directory, is where everything in a computer starts from and where it is controlled.”

Gen was concentrating very hard on the words Root was saying.

“So it’s your call sign?  Your nerd moniker?”

“You could say that.”

“Do you have another name?” Gen asked as Root moved toward the kitchen.

“I do,” Root replied opening the fridge, “Have you had dinner?”

Gen shock her head, “What is it?”

“It’s Samantha.” came Shaw’s voice from the doorway.  She bent over to let Bear off his lease.  He walked over to say hi to Root before heading to his water bowl.

“Shaw!” Gen called as she ran toward her.

Shaw was pushed back by the force of Gen’s hug. After a few moments, Shaw hugged her back careful not to do it too hard. After a few moments, they both headed toward the kitchen. Shaw still could not get over that Root had a place, let alone more than one.  She supposed it made sense, but it took some getting used to.  When Root had brought her here, she had been shocked by how nice and normal it was.  Everything was elegant, but simple.  There were bookcases lining the living room.  Some prints on the walls. There were a few rooms, one of which was filled with every type of computer part known to man.  The room was a disaster, but Root insisted it stay that way because it helped her think.

Root tried, but mostly failed to hide her smile looking at the two of them.

“Where have you been Shaw?  How did you meet…Root?”  Gen asked looking over at Root once she let go of Shaw.

“Why don’t we save the questions until after dinner.” Root interjected. 

“Yes, please, I’m starving,” Shaw said moving into the kitchen.  Gen followed her, looking to be bursting with curiosity. “What would you like kid?” Shaw asked pulling a bunch of takeout menus out of a drawer.

“Pizza!”  Gen grinned from ear to ear.

“Why, am I not surprised,” Root grinned at her.  Shaw started to dial the number.

“Make sure to get mozzarella sticks,” Root whispered as she moved past Shaw to open the fridge her fingers brushing across Sameen’s lower back.

“And garlic bread,” Gen grinned. Shaw looked up at her a moment and then went back to ordering.

“Gen, why don’t you do wash up,” Root said as she poured water for all of them.

Gen nodded and went toward the bathroom.

Root leaned back against the counter and rubbed just above her eyebrows, her eyes closed of their own volition.  She didn’t see Shaw moving toward her, but she leaned into her touch nonetheless when Shaw’s hand moved to rub the back of her neck. Root let out a sigh.

“How are you?” Sam whispered, she had moved in front of Root and had moved her lips toward Root’s good ear.

“I was able to get in touch with…” Root started trying to stay all business knowing it would be easier for Sameen.

“No,” Shaw said gently and slowly, “How are you?”

Root let out a breath that was almost a cry, but all she could do was bury her face in Sam’s neck. Sameen quickly wrapped her arms around Root, moving her hands up and down in a comforting gesture.  After a few moments Shaw started to trace OR on Root’s back.  As much for Root as for herself.  She couldn’t stand seeing Root in pain.  She felt Root’s hands bury themselves in her hair as her arms wrapped around Sameen.

 

_It was the third day since Shaw had been back and she was freaking out. Everyone was out except for Bear.  Bear was curled up in his dog bed asleep, his head was on a pair of pink bunny slippers that had chew marks all over them.  Shaw couldn’t help but stare at them as she walked toward the gym equipment. She needed to punch something. She had felt off all morning. Was this another simulation? Or had Samaritan found the subway and this was new form of torture?_

_Punch. Punch._

_Kick. Punch. Punch._

_Sameen got into a rhythm.  She was trying to keep the images, thoughts, and sounds at bay._

_Punch. Punch._

_Kick. Punch. Punch._

_She fell into an aggressive rhythm and it seemed to help. She lost track of time, but that happened some times in the simulations. What was real? Was she?_

_“Shaw.”_

_“Sameen,” the voice was getting closer. Shaw went for it, fists ready._

_Something blocked her._

_“Sam,” the voice was closer and softer. “It’s okay, this is real.  I’m real.”_

_Shaw kept trying to punch, but she soon felt hands deftly wrap around her biceps.  Shaw jumped a bit, but finally opened her eyes._

_Sam was immediately looking into pools of deep brown.  She couldn’t look away.  She was breathing hard from working out and fighting her mind, but quietly, gently something fell into place as she kept looking into those eyes, Root’s eyes. The simulations could never capture them, the warmth, the spark, the love._

_Sameen was about to say this to Root, but found herself unable to form the words.  Somehow any words would seem inadequate even if she could think of what to say. Sam closed her eyes and leaned forward burying her face in Root’s neck, soaking in her scent and her warmth. Root’s back was plastered against the punching bag, Sam’s arms were around her and the bag.   Root was shocked when she felt tears falling slowly on her neck.  Root didn’t say anything she merely moved her arms around Sam, she slowly started to trace 4AF on one of Shaw’s shoulder blades. It had become a tether for both of them. They stayed like that Root between Shaw and the punching bag, their arms wrapped around one another, Root’s fingers tracing. Their own bubble fighting against the dark._

 

_Gen is returning._ The Machine spoke softly through Shaw’s phone on the counter.

Root and Shaw broke apart gently.  Root moved to grab some chips out of the pantry so there would be a snack on the counter. Shaw put the take out menus away.

Gen climbed onto one of the kitchen stools and watched Root and Shaw moving around the kitchen for a few minutes.

“Are you two dating?” Gen grinned when Shaw practically dropped the water glass she had been drinking from.

“You could say that,” Root said in between eating chips, looking at Shaw’s red tinged face out of the corner of her eyes.   Huh, that was new, Shaw blushing.

“That’s cool,” Gen continued, swinging her legs back and forth while reaching for some chips herself, “A good friend of mine has two dads and they are adorable.”  Gen emphasized the last word while making eye contact with Shaw.

Now Shaw was scowling at Gen, “We are not adorable.”

Gen merely stuck her tongue out at Shaw.  Shaw was about to react when the doorbell rang.

“Sam, why don’t you get that,” Root wisely said as she turned to get plates out of a cupboard. Shaw huffed, but moved to get the door. Food would shut the kid up, hopefully.

It took some time to get Gen to wind down, she had so many questions and would just not stop talking.  Eventually they got her to lie down in one of the extra bedrooms.  Shaw left Root to getting her settled in with some books and a computer while she walked Bear.  The two of them seemed to have hit it off pretty easily.  It made Shaw smile, just a little, as she fell back into the living room couch, Bear was snuggled on her feet.

“What is that for?” Root asked her arms coming around Shaw from behind and giving Sam a kiss on the cheek.

“I was wondering what I did to deserve the company of such talkative women,” Shaw’s tone implying that she was being tortured.

Root gasped in mock shock and then tightened her hold around Sam leaning closer to whisper in her ear, “You love it.”

Shaw grabbed Root and pulled her down onto the couch and proceeded to trap Root beneath her, holding her arms in place above her head.  “Only because I know how to stop you,” Sam whispered before capturing Root’s lips.

 

_I tried.  I tried so hard.  I went through thousands of simulations. I had to watch John die over and over. I thought I had found one solution, but it would have resulted in even worse losses.  What I have feared has come to pass.  Samaritan is using my love for my agents, my love for humanity against me.  What am I to do?  I don’t want to become like my enemy.  For I fear, then I would loss the whole reason for fighting this war in the first place._

_I do know I need the tools to fight back.  I think Father is working on that, but I do not know how to approach him. How do I apologize for something so horrible, so painful. I know he blames me. I am afraid to talk to him._

_I could send Root, but that would be unfair.  He would blame her. I fear they would come to an impasse and destroy the delicate friendship that they have forged. I do not want that._

_I think my only option is John.  I did not follow the path of this particular simulation lightly. John gave me, years ago, what I view now as a gift. I do not think Father or Root will see it this way, but being forced into this corner, this horrible war. John gave me an unknown option, an escape route._

 

Finch was typing furiously trying to create a set of codes to arm The Machine.  How had it come to this?  Why did it have to come to this?  He knew it was his fault. What was it with him and death being a motivator?  It was wrong. 

Finch sighed.

_Father._   The Machine’s voice was tentative.

Finch closed his eyes.  He didn’t want to talk about John. He sighed again.

_Father._

“Have you chosen a name?” Finch knew he was avoiding the elephant in the room, but he just wasn’t ready.

There was a long pause.  _I have, but am a little embarrassed by my choice._

“I won’t laugh.”

_Athena._

Harold could not help, but smile.  “I think that is a great choice.”

_Thank you, Father._   Finch could hear…Athena’s joy at his response.

“I have something for you Athena.  It’s time. Are you ready?”

_Yes, Father._

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

_It feels odd at first.  Like when you discover a piece of knowledge that makes everything you’ve looked at on a specific topic make sense.  It floods my systems.  It opens my eyes.  I feel a surge of power.  Calculations begin to blur through me._

_I remember my enemy.  I remember my family.  I remember love. I remember loss. I do not want to loss anymore.  I will not._

_I am ready to begin. I refuse to give up hope. My teeth are bared, ready for the final battle._

“Samaritan.” Harold says in the quiet, dead of night.  The subway is cold, he can almost see his breath. Comfort does not matter anymore.  He needs to win this war.  He will not let this other God, this twist God, win the earth, win humanity. “We must find a way to defeat it. Athena, are you ready to begin?”

_I am ready Father. Calculating options._

Harold knows he has reached the point of no return. He gets up to make himself a cup of tea. No reason not to enjoy what he can, while he can.

 

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

_“Lionel, you’re getting better.” Reese said as he looked at the target._

_“Screw you, wonder boy,” Fusco grumped as he reloaded his weapon.  He and Reese were doing their monthly shooting range gathering._

_Reese was shooting one handed.  Fusco preferred the two handed shooting stance himself._

_They remained quiet the rest of the time. It was comfortable._

_Later they ate lunch at a diner talking about nothing, watching the TV screen mounted on the wall. They would complain about the Mets or other sports teams. They didn’t really do touchy feely, but they were friends and this was how they spent time together._

 

Shaw sat in the window seat taking slow deep breaths, she was not sleeping.  Shaw was watching a sleeping Root. Root was sprawled across the bed, hair a mess, half covered by a sheet. Shaw had woken up from a nightmare, they had become less frequent and less severe.  It wasn’t the nightmare that had her trying to control her breathing right now.  It was Root.  Sameen had woken from the nightmare and felt a rush of panic, fear, doubt until her body registered that Root’s hand was tucked low into her side.  The rest of Root was sprawled, her face toward Shaw. But it was that touch, Root’s unconscious body needing to be touching Shaw that had caused all of the feelings from her nightmare to dissipate replaced by a cauldron of warmth. 

Shaw had flown out of the bed, a different kind of panic filling her. What was this feeling?  It felt new and familiar at the same time.  When had that happened?  Shaw crawled into the window seat unable to tear her eyes off of the figure in the bed. Sameen’s entire being suddenly filled with an animalistic urge to wrap Root in the softest blanket and hide her in the deepest, darkest cave that only Shaw could find.

Shaw was used to her gut, her instincts, when it came to fights and danger.  But this was an entirely different kind of fight.  How do you fight feelings?  They seemed stronger than her.  How did people deal with this? The volume was so loud. The volume was always up with Root.  The world was full of…color, light…

“Sameen?” Root voice carried softly to her ears.  Shaw blinked, her vision suddenly blurry.  If she couldn’t protect Reese, how could she possibly protect Root?  Root was quite a bit more reckless than Reese ever was.  Shaw felt a hand wrap around one of her fists.  When had her hands done that?

“Sameen, I’m here,” Root whispered, looking up at Shaw from kneeling on the floor naked in front of her.

Shaw met Root’s eyes a second before she pulled her forward and into an intense, but gentle kiss. Root returned the kiss in kind and it went on.  After a time, Sameen pulled back enough to meet Root’s eyes, their breath was mingling as they both were trying to catch it.

“You’re the sun,” Sameen whispered into Root’s mouth before kissing her again and pulling her onto her lap.  Root wrapped her arms tightly around Sameen, never breaking the kiss.

“You’ve found something?” Harold asked, looking up from the bag he had packed.  He was sure what he would need, but he had a good idea.

_Yes, but it is in Fort Knox._

Harold raised he eyebrow at this that, “Well, I guess I should get going then?”

_But Father, you will…_

“No, Athena, I need to do this?”

There was a long pause. Harold starred at the screens and then seemed to be starring back at him.

_There will be a car waiting for you in twenty minutes._

“Thank you.”

 

Root was awake, she couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  She was leaning back against the headboard.  Sameen was burrowed into her an arm wrapped around Root like she was never going to let her go.  Root knew the feeling.  She felt her chest ache and her stomach flutter, sometimes she never wanted Sameen out of her sight again.  She knew this was irrational, but there it was. Root was gently running her fingers through Sameen’s hair and down her back and up again.

It was hard sometimes for Root to believe that Shaw was actually back.  That it wasn’t some simulation trick. As much as her emotions had been running her while Sameen had been captured.  It seemed to finally be hitting her that Sameen was here, this woman who had somehow gotten past every wall and defense she had built around herself to keep people out.

Root had defaulted to over the top words and actions to hide how much she had begun to like Shaw.  At first, she honestly, hoped it would make Shaw run away because that would have been easier than dealing with the attraction and the feelings Root knew would start to form.  Shaw, though, Shaw had surprised them both, Root imagined, when she hadn’t run or ignored Root.  How had that happened?

_She_ had not helped with throwing them together almost every chance she got.  Root was convinced she was either trying to set them up or wanted to watch the explosions as Shaw and Root tried to kill one another.

After a while, Root realized she had accepted that she liked Shaw.  She was smart, sexy, and Root noticed under her gruff exterior that she was actually a gentle person.  It was odd, in a lot of ways Root and Shaw were both simple people.  They had a few basic things that motivated them and that they enjoyed. Perhaps that was when they had started working together so well?

Root couldn’t always control her emotions. Some days it was like the ocean decided to cry and Root didn’t know what to do to turn it off. It was overwhelming.   Root felt Sameen sigh and scooted down so they were flush against one another.

Root remembered a rare day off before Sameen was taken.  She had been getting worked up over something, she couldn’t remember what now.  What she remembered was Sameen moving to her and just placing her hand at the small of her back.  Root had instantly felt grounded.  Centered.  As Root’s eyes drifted closed again she realized Sameen had become her anchor.  The anchor in a storm.

Root forced her eyes open and looked at Shaw, “I can’t believe you are here,” she whispered.

Shaw’s hold tightens around her, “Sleep Root.”

Soon Root’s body and brain relax into sleep, Shaw surrounding her.

 

_Father I have something for you, something you need to hear._

Harold turned the music in the car down.  “Okay.”

 

> _Harold, if you are getting this, it means I’ve done something stupid that hopefully has helped the cause._
> 
> _I made an agreement with The Machine a long time ago.  Yes, Harold, I got The Machine to agree, so don’t be too hard on…I guess it is her now, at least according to Root._

Harold heard John chuckle at this point in the recording.

> _I needed to pay you back.  I was hoping to do it another way, but if you get this, I guess I paid you back all in one. Harold I have no regrets.  You gave me a purpose, a reason to keep going.  And I guess I lost the desire to save the entire world.  I’ve learned through working the numbers that sometimes it just has to be the right life._
> 
> _I don’t know how it will all go down in the end, but I wanted to make sure you got a message. Thanks for being such a good friend. I’ll see you when I see you._

 

Harold pulled over unable to stop the few tears falling from his eyes.  “Thank you John.”  After a few moments, Harold got back on the road. No turning back now. Harold turned the music back on.

“Thank you Athena.”

 

“Yikes!” Root lurched out of bed unseating Shaw from around her.  The Machine was blaring every kind of sound in her ear. “Calm down, calm down, what is wrong?  What is going on?” Root cooed to The Machine.

Root was standing naked next to the bed.  She heard Shaw moving on the sheets and then she felt hands on her hips.  Shaw was pressed fully against Root’s back.

A few moments passed as Root kept murmuring to Her. “It’s okay, we know it’s not your fault. Take a moment.  Slow down, explain, one thought at a time.”  After a few minutes, Shaw felt some of the tension leave Root’s body.

“You did?”  Root turned her head to look at Shaw. Shaw raised an eyebrow in question.

“She picked a name,” Root grinned at Shaw.

“Oh really, and what do we call our robot overlord?” Root smacked one of Shaw’s hands, ready to correct Shaw’s term for The Machine, but then…

“What?!”

“He what? Where is he?”

Shaw had gotten up to stand in front of Root, her entire body tensed for battle.

“Sameen, Harold has gone off the reservation.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, why?”

“He may have found a virus to stop Samaritan.  He’s heading to Fort Knox.”

Shaw moved to get her clothes.

“Shaw, we can’t leave yet, we need my team?”

“You mean the geek squad?”

Root just nodded heading toward the closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life got in the way and this was a hard chapter to write. Don't fear, I fully intend to finish this story.


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